


you make me brave

by pasteljaem



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Angst, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Growing Up, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ+ Themes, M/M, Making out(?), Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Pride, Renjun is a good friend, Romance, Slow Burn, They're both idiots tbh, also no side ships cuz i'm nomin trash, bye, dw there's fluff too, he's totally in love with jaemin, how do i always end up writing angst, i don't think it counts as making out tho, i mean if there's no fluff then what's the point, jeno firmly believes in his heterosexuality, just bros being dudes ya know, just kidding, me too jeno me too, nomin, nomin are childhood besties, not really but shush, oh yeah, someone get me a renjun too, that's totally up to your imagination, their parents kinda suck just saying, they're totally not into each other, uhhh okay too many tags oops, unless you wanna put in markhyuck, whoa that's a LOT of tags, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 04:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19939993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasteljaem/pseuds/pasteljaem
Summary: "I think I'm done with running away now. I'm not scared anymore."“Oh,” Jaemin exhales, more a breath than a word. His lips are barely parted, his eyes searching. And Jeno can only hope he finds what he's looking for.They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity and when Jaemin finally leans forward to capture Jeno's trembling lips with his, Jeno thinks he's dreaming.(or, Jeno is sure that being gay makes you a sinner, but when it comes to Na Jaemin, maybe, just maybe, he doesn't mind going to hell.)





	you make me brave

**Author's Note:**

> icb i'm already posting my second fic on here but all the positive comments on my first one really gave me a boost of confidence :)))
> 
> anyways, i've wanted to write something like this for a while now so i really hope you like it!!
> 
> enjoy ♡

Jeno is an inquisitive kindergartner when he hears it for the first time. Growing up under the protective care of his parents, he'd cry if anyone so much as addressed him too loudly. However, he is a good kid. He knows the word of God (he regularly attends Church with his mother), and obeys his father well. There is nothing more he needs to do to navigate this world. Or that's what his parents always tell him.

Jeno's father presides over the small parish church down their block. It just a day like any other when Mark, the shy kid who plays the piano every Sunday slips into the hall nervously. There is an unfamiliar boy with pretty golden skin and fiery hair, plastered to his side, holding onto his hand tightly. He has seen his sister do the same thing, and his parents, and many other couples in public, but he has never seen two boys clinging onto each other like that before, like they shared the same body and soul. It makes him wonder if he could hold hands with a boy too.

It looked fun. There was that one time Jeno and a girl named Kang Somi from his class had dressed up as Hansel and Gretel for a fancy dress competition. Mrs.Kang made them hold hands for a picture later on which Jeno's mom still coos over, saying how they are just perfect for each other which, ew. Girls have cooties. Plus, Somi always laughed too loud and was only interested in talking about her large doll collection and how none of the other girls in class owned one like that. Jeno would rather be friends with a nicer, cootie-free boy any day.

He tugs on his mother's floral blouse and asks,"Eomma, can i hold a boy's hand too?"

The force with which she jerks away from him almost throws Jeno off balance, as she looks down at him with a horrified expression, unmistakable disgust clouding her features.

"Why." she says, her voice a harsh whisper. "Why would you even ask such a thing?"

In his shocked state, all Jeno can do is point. As he watches, Mark pulls the boy into a quick hug and steps away. Beside him, his mother's lips thin into a straight line. 

"Stop staring, Jeno. It's not something you should watch," she tells him before leaning over to his Father who is seated in front. He's not sure what they're talking about because he's too busy sneaking glances at the other boy who is now sitting awkwardly at the farthest corner in the very last row, but he thinks he hears something about "the disgusting sin of homosexuality" and "tainting the purity of the church" . 

Jeno doesn't know what those words mean but he has never heard anger and malice drip from her words quite that way before. His mother who is ever-loving, gentle and full of smiles; if she hated the idea of boys holding hands so much, then it must be a really bad thing to do Jeno concludes.

When he visits the church on the following Sunday, Mark doesn't come to play. Another week passes, and this time, a tall girl with fair skin and midnight curls that go past her waist, sits at the piano. 

Jeno never sees Mark or the boy with fire for hair again.

ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ

Jeno is still struggling to finish twenty sentences on how he spent his summer break when the doorbell rings. 

He can't for the life of him comprehend why his teacher may be interested in reading how a bunch of third graders whiled away their time eating ice-cream and swimming in the usually over-crowded town pool, because he surely wouldn't have been, had he been in her place. But he needs to keep his grades up, so it's not like he has much of a choice.

A short high-pitched laugh breaks Jeno's gradually thinning concentration and he finds himself carefully peeking around the kitchen door and down the hallway, task at hand long forgotten. 

The lady standing in the doorway adjusts her beret and smiles.

"Since we just moved here, I was thinking it would be nice if Nana could have a friend."

Jeno can't hear what his mother says in reply but in an instant she is calling out his name, her loud voice making him jump. Jeno slowly steps out of the kitchen and goes to stand behind her. 

There's a tiny boy, standing behind the aunty, mirroring his position but the moment their eyes meet, his face splits into a toothy grin and he pulls out a fancy remote control car from behind his back. He has braces, Jeno notes absent-mindedly. 

"Hi, I'm Jaemin, but my friends call me Nana." The short, brown haired boy offers Jeno him another thousand watt smile and thrusts the controller in his direction. "Wanna play? It's new."

Jeno grins back. 

"Sure. I'm Jeno, by the way."

And that's how Na Jaemin, who looked like the human embodiment of a chipmunk, comes tumbling into his world, and Jeno thinks he's finally found someone he'd never get tired of for the rest of his life.

ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ

Jaemin stands in front of their class a week later, wearing overalls and his characteristic goofy smile. Their teacher introduces him as the new transfer student and points to the empty seat beside Jeno's.

As Jaemin bounces over to his allotted seat in his light up skechers, Jeno wonders if he ever gets tired. 

"Hi Nono!"

Jeno pretends to be embarrassed by use of the familiar nickname. The first day, when Jaemin's mother was no longer occupied with exchanging pleasantries with his own, she came to collect him from where they were playing in Jeno's backyard.

Before he left, hugging his car to his chest, Jaemin had called a quick "Bye Nono!" and somehow, the nickname had stuck.

"Ssh, don't call me that in front of my other friends," he says in a hushed voice.

The latter laughs. "Why? You're Nono and I'm Nana. We can match that way." He seems to be so genuinely happy with the current arrangement of nicknames, Jeno can't help but cave in. He smiles back.

"If that makes you happy."

After the roll call, Mrs.Park, their art and crafts teacher has Renjun (the quiet kid who always seems to carry an entire pack of art supplies and assorted stationery with him wherever he goes) hand out blank pieces of paper, and tells them to draw the first thing that come into their minds. 

Jeno is still deciding between a simple scenery and his pet cats when he looks over to find Jaemin drawing what seem to be distorted squares and rectangles piled on top of each other. He is not sure what they are supposed to represent but the younger's enthusiasm and generous use of colour makes up for the lack of skill (it's only later on that Jeno finds out that the randomized collection of quadrilaterals was actually supposed to be iron man).

Mrs. Na, as it turns out, makes sandwiches that taste like heaven. At least, they're a lot better than the simple orange marmalade sandwiches that greet Jeno at lunch. 

"I don't even like marmalade," he complains, picking one up half-heartedly. Jaemin smiles.

"Trade one of mine for yours? I love orange marmalade."

ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ

Jeno is twelve. Some of his friends have already started "dating". They talk in excited whispers about holding hands under the table, and quick presses of lips, and goodbye hugs. Sometimes, out of curiosity, Jeno asks them how it feels. Do they really feel butterflies like he'd read in books? Sparks of electricity? 

But for the most part, he brushes them off with a smile; he's not interested.

Moreover, with the beginning of middle school, Jeno has other important things to worry about. This is when the real assignments start, group projects and holiday homework. Jeno doesn't want to grouped with people who would leave most of the work to him. 

To make matters worse, Jaemin is in a different class and Jeno doesn't know how he's going to survive the first day without his familiar presence by his side. 

Jeno wonders if he is going to find a new best friend in his class. Someone who is way cooler— who would make Jaemin realize that he has no business being friends with a loser like him. He wonders if he'll find a girl he likes too.

The thought makes him feel sick for some reason and he dismisses it quickly.

Jaemin is waiting for him at the gate, backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Hey," he greets him as Jeno walks up, words muffled by the lollipop he has in his mouth.

"Hey," Jeno echoes sullenly, looking down at his shoes.

" _Hey_ ," Jaemin repeats himself. Jeno kicks a pebble away, refusing to meet the younger's eyes. When he hears him sigh, Jeno chances a peek at him, finding him rummaging in the pocket of his oversized grey hoodie. 

"Here." Jaemin holds out a lollipop to him. "Take this and stop sulking.That frown makes you look ugly."

Jeno pouts as he grudgingly takes the candy. "I'm just worried…"

"I know." Their hands brush as they walk side by side to school, and Jaemin takes it, twining their fingers together. Jeno's stomach does a little flip, the same way it did whenever they shared any form of contact.

 _It the nerves_ , Jeno tells himself. _Just the nerves_.

And then, as if the latter is reading his mind, as if he knows exactly what's bothering him— "You know you'll still have me, even if we're not in the same class." 

Jaemin's smile eases some of the tension and Jeno finds himself smiling back at him.

"Yeah."

ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ

Jeno is in eighth grade when a rumor starts going around about Jaemin being— about Jaemin liking…. _boys_. Jeno doesn't believe it. In their small town, rumors were a common thing. They spread faster than wildfire and more often than not, there was no truth behind them.

They are walking back home from Church after a particularly depressing sermon. Jaemin is quiet, which is very unlike his usual lively self. He doesn't laugh when Jeno cracks a joke about their eccentric math teacher. Doesn't even smile when Jeno says how he's decided to name the new baby kitten who'd been born the previous week, Cotton. 

("It's because his fur is so soft and fluffy. Just like cotton! You know?" Jaemin nods and quickens his pace.)

Jeno understands. 

He thinks of his father passionately talking about the sin of homosexuality and explaining how all homosexuals went to hell. Of Jaemin wearing his old chess club jersey and pinching his cheeks. Of his mother leaning over to tell Mrs.Na about the shy pianist boy, Mark, and calling him a sinner. Of Jaemin calling him cute, when they woke up next to each other after a sleepover, all sleepy smiles and tangled limbs. Of Mrs. Na gasping and saying it was a good thing they had turned Mark away. Of Jaemin gritting his teeth and nodding along. Of his father fixing his cold gaze on Jaemin throughout a good portion of the sermon. Of Jaemin agreeing with whatever hateful nonsense he was spewing, tears prickling the back of his eyes.

Jeno tells his mother that he'll be back for dinner and hurries after his best friend.

"Stop following me." Jaemin's voice shakes as he trudges up the stairs to his room.

"I'm not following you," Jeno calls after him, "We just happen to have the same destination in mind."

"You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine."

_He's obviously not._

Jeno slips into his room and toes the door shut behind him.

"You know I don't believe them right? They're just rumors. We know you're not actually...what they say you are."

Jaemin laughs humorlessly. It's the first time Jeno has seen him being completely unhappy, and realizes that beneath all those easy smiles, he must be having a rough time too. He looks so different from his cheerful self, with his hood drawn up and hands hidden in his sleeves, it's kind of scary. 

"Who said they're just rumors?"

This takes Jeno by surprise.

He has never considered the fact that maybe Jaemin might be anything other than straight. He doesn’t know why he should be considering it now since it doesn’t really matter to him and it’s none of his business anyways.

"So…," Jeno begins after a while and trails off, curiosity getting the better of him. 

"Yes Jeno, I'm gay," Jaemin breathes. "I'm the monster they say I am." And then, he breaks down into tears. 

Jeno is so shocked that he just rushes forward and envelopes him in a hug. He lets him cry it out, let all the pent up emotions out of his system. 

He doesn't press the issue any further, and when Jaemin cries into his shirt and says that he's going to hell just like Mr.Lee said, Jeno shushes him and whispers that he's going to be okay. He holds onto him tighter.

He wishes they had skipped Church today, made some excuse about finishing their homework. 

He thinks of the conversation he had with his father in his study the day before. He thinks of the way he had put a hand on Jeno's shoulder and told him to choose his friends with care. Of the coldness in his eyes and the steel in his voice when he said it'd be best to stay away from the boy he liked to call his best friend.

He wonders what his father would say now if he were to see him like this, clutching onto Jaemin as if his life depended on it, holding the broken boy to his chest. He wonders how he would react. If he would kick him out of their house. Call him a dirty sinner, who deserved to burn in hell.

But if there's one thing Jeno does know, it's that he won't be letting go anytime soon.

ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ

It's a Sunday night and Jeno is pushing his way through the poor excuse of a Christmas party, trying his best to avoid getting caught under the abundant sprigs of mistletoe stuck all over the ceiling. 

Not that kissing someone was a big deal or anything. Sure he hasn't been in a relationship before. Hasn't even had his first kiss yet. But then, that was just because he chose to direct his focus into his studies rather than girls. So yeah. No big deal. 

Most of the girls here were pretty anyways.

The house is mostly filled with upperclassmen Jeno doesn't recognize. He thinks he spots Renjun, the only person from sophomore year that he actually knows, lurking around in the kitchen but he's not so sure. Before he can get a better view, he finds himself tripping over a carelessly outstretched leg and right into someone's arms. 

"Oh hi."

Jaemin blinks down at him owlishly, newly dyed bubblegum pink hair messed up. Jeno briefly wonders whose hands did that. How many.

"Hi," he replies breathlessly, quickly untangling himself from the younger. "I was just looking for you."

"Missed me?" Jaemin raises an amused eyebrow and smirks at him with a confidence middle school Jaemin would've never been able to muster. 

"Ew, no thanks," he says, pretending to gag and the latter's smirk widens.

He's changed a lot, Jeno thinks.

Gone was the cute goofy kid with chubby cheeks and braces, the insecure boy who had cried into Jeno's chest after coming out to him. This Jaemin stands tall and broad, emits an aura of confidence and is the subject of most of the dating rumors at school. This Jaemin, who has lost his baby fat and is all hard planes and sharp angles now. This Jaemin, the one that every girl wants, and the rising star of his dreams. 

"Hey look!" someone shouts, and suddenly every pair of eyes in the room land on them. Jaemin grins. Someone's wolf whistling in the background.

Overall, Jeno realizes, he is way out of his depth. And he's caught under the mistletoe. With his _best friend._ Who is also a boy, and attractive as hell.

"Get that gay shit on," a voice calls out, and everyone laughs. Jeno flinches. The younger's grin falters for a second.

"What are you waiting for? Kiss already!" 

A few people take up on the last word and soon everyone in the room is chanting " _kiss! kiss! kiss!"_ The voices rise, sweeping over the entire house, drowning out the soft EDM. Jeno is pretty sure the entire neighbourhood could hear them by now.

"It's okay. We don't have to do this," Jaemin says in a low voice and Jeno nods. He's right. They don't have to do anything they don't want to. 

Except, Jeno wants to. Jeno has wanted to do this for such a long time now, it's creepy. _This is the only chance you'll get_ , a small voice in his mind says. _Shut up_ , he tells it. 

Someone in the crowd boos. "It's just a kiss, come on!" 

_They're right. It's just a kiss. Doesn't have to mean anything._

Jeno spots Renjun standing amongst the crowd. Their eyes meet for a split second and he shoots him a thumbs up, as if he's telling him to just man the fuck up and go for it. Jeno breathes out slowly, trying to ignore all the voices in his head that's screaming at him to stop. To just get the fuck out of there before he ended up doing something stupid.

 _I'm gonna regret this later_ , Jeno thinks as he rushes forward and slots his lips against Jaemin's. 

It's nothing like they describe in books. There are no sparks of electricity, nothing out of the ordinary. Time doesn't stop for them, and over the pounding of his heart Jeno can vaguely hear people cheering and whistling in the background. If anything, it's sort of awkward, and when Jeno tilts his head trying to get a better angle, their noses bump. Jaemin pulls apart and ducks back in, his hands sliding up his neck, fingers brushing over the apple of his cheek as he smiles against his lips. 

They break apart — was it seconds? minutes later? Jeno had lost track of time the moment Jaemin had begun to kiss him back. They stare at each other, the reality of what they'd just done beginning to sink in slowly.

"Sorry," Jeno blurts at the same the latter says, "Wow".

"I think—," Jeno laughs, but it comes out breathy and high. "I think I should go. It's almost past my curfew."

It's a lie. Jeno's curfew is at ten and the hour hand hasn't even crossed nine yet. But he _needs_ to get out of here. Jeno thinks he's going to break down right then and there if he doesn't.

"I—" Jaemin grabs his wrist. He looks like he's going to protest, he knows when Jeno's curfew is. Like he's going to hold him back. Like he's going to apologize too. Jeno doesn't think he could bear it if he did. 

But then his grip loosens, and his hand falls back to his side. "Okay," he says with a defeated sigh. " _Okay_." 

Someone clears their throat. Jeno had almost forgotten about the others watching. His face burns.

"Okay, that's enough! Break it up guys, fun's over," a small but stern voice says. Renjun. He glares at the people watching them, shoo-ing them away. Slowly, reluctantly, everyone returns to whatever they had been doing before.

"Thanks," Jeno mumbles as Renjun walks him to the door. The older boy's face splits in a smile. "No problem." 

"And hey," he says gently before he pulls the door open. He waits for Jeno to turn around and look at him where he's leaning against the wall, nursing a glass of fruit punch in his hand. He looks like he knows something Jeno doesn't and he hates the words before they're even past his lips. 

"Don't worry too much, Jeno, things will work out for you guys. I have a feeling, and my feelings rarely ever go wrong."

He winks playfully at him before pushing himself off the wall and disappearing back into the crowd.

ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ

Jeno looks down at the jumble of formulae staring up at him from the pages of his mathematics book and feels a migraine coming on. 

He has an exam coming up next week but is nowhere near done with the syllabus. His phone lights up with a string of text messages from a number Jeno could recite in his sleep.

**From: Nana <3 (7:46 pm)**

_Hey…_

_So? How have you been?_

Jeno sighs. He has been really busy studying for the upcoming exams, barely leaving his room except when absolutely necessary, and he has totally, completely 100% not been trying to avoid Jaemin lately.

Not at all.

**From: Nana <3 (7:48 pm)**

_look ik you've been trying to ignore me :((_

_but,,, can we talk?_

_please?_

Jaemin rarely types like this, so this must be serious Jeno thinks. He swipes up to get to his chat with the younger.

**To: Nana <3 (7:49 pm)**

_oh hey_

_what's up_

**From: Nana <3 (7:49 pm)**

_nothing much >:_

_wbu_

**To: Nana <3 (7:50 pm)**

_currently surviving on 0hrs of sleep_

_oh,,, and 3 cans of red bull :D_

**From: Nana <3 (7:51 pm)**

_ouch_

_u sound like u need a break lol_

**To: Nana <3 (7:51 pm)**

_ngl i kinda do xD_

**From: Nana <3 (7:52 pm)**

_meet me at the park in 10?_

Jeno panics. Because meeting Jaemin meant they’ll have to talk about everything they haven’t said, everything that sits between them like landmines. Meeting Jaemin meant facing the feelings he'd been trying so hard to suppress. To desperately run away from. Jeno would rather dive head first into a ditch. 

**To: Nana <3 (7:54 pm)**

_i have to complete my syllabus tho :/_

_and i'm not even halfway done rip_

**From: Nana <3 (7:54 pm)**

_pleaseeee? :((((_

_it's kinda important :((_

_i don't think it can wait soz_

_u can't avoid me forever_

Forever is a long time, Jeno thinks. 

A long time to spend sleepless nights muffling his sobs against his pillow. To sling his arm around the younger’s shoulders and pretend that the ache in his chest isn’t about to kill him.

Jaemin's right. Jeno can't avoid facing the situation forever.

**To: Nana <3 (7:55 pm)**

_….okay_

_i'll see u then_

Jeno ignores the sick feeling in his gut and pockets his phone before running down the stairs.

Jaemin is sitting on the rickety swing set when he gets there, tracing patterns into the gravel with a stick. He's so invested in what he's doing, he misses Jeno's quiet footsteps approaching him and jumps when the older boy slips into the swing beside him.

"Hey." Jaemin offers him a small smile over the thick scarf wrapped around his neck. The weather is cold enough to ice over wet surfaces and collect on the windshields of cars every morning. The winds are chilly too, but not once has it snowed. 

"So," Jeno says carefully, "What did you want to talk about?" 

Jaemin laughs, but there's a bitter undertone to it that he doesn't quite understand. 

"Nothing. I just missed you."

This makes Jeno look up at him in surprise. Jaemin is looking at him with a strange expression on his face. There's a mixture of longing and sadness in his eyes that Jeno hasn't seen before.

"You're being weird." Jeno pushes his hands deeper into his sleeves and laughs nervously. "Am I missing something?"

"Why? Aren't I allowed to miss my best friend?"

But he can’t. He _shouldn't_ , not when his face is painted behind Jeno's eyelids every night. Not when he wakes up gasping in cold perspiration and the thought of Jaemin’s lips on his, hands fisted in his shirt, tugging him closer — "No, you aren't," Jeno whispers softly.

Their eyes lock and then suddenly, Jaemin's arms are around him, his face buried in the crook of Jeno's neck, the force of his embrace almost knocking him off the swing.

"Jaemin what-" Jeno pushes him away. 

The younger never fails to surprise him. Jeno always tries his best to refuse his affection, but Jaemin just sees it as another challenge each time. Every shove makes him laugh and come back with bolder moves, infusing more love and warmth into his endeavors, until Jeno was tempted to cave in to his comforting touch.

But he isn't gay. Because being gay is _gross._ He hears his father's voice in his head. 

_You can't like another boy, Jeno; that is dirty and shameful. It makes you a sinner, and sinners go to hell._

And Lee Jeno is a good Christian who doesn't associate with sinful things.

Today however, Jaemin doesn't smile when Jeno pushes him away. He doesn't laugh and try to hug him again. There's a look of hurt and _betrayal_ on his face. It makes Jeno's heart shatter into a million tiny shards.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" he asks slowly, voice deceivingly calm.

Jeno shakes his head frantically. "No! No, it's just that…"

Jaemin scoffs and crosses his arms across his chest. "Just _what_ exactly Jeno?"

Jeno looks down, feeling like he's teetering at the edge of a precipice, one shove away from losing balance and falling into the void below. He gnaws on the insides of his cheeks.

"People could see us."

"So what if they do?" The younger raises a challenging eyebrow at him. 

The air sticks in Jeno's throat, and he's painfully aware of Jaemin's eyes on, watching him— daring him to say it out loud. His mouth feels dry and raw, and the scarf he'd draped around his neck before leaving his house suddenly feels too tight.

"It's just that- I just don't want people to think…"

He sees Jaemin stiffen. All he can hear is his own ragged breathing. There’s something in his chest, painful and sharp and dangerous, and he wants to take it out but he can’t _reach_ —

"I don't want them to think that I'm a faggot," he says finally and the younger recoils like he's been punched. 

"Yeah right." Jaemin’s voice quivers. It falters. It stumbles and it breaks. "Because that makes you a monster too, doesn't it?" 

And then his expression hardens, face shutting off completely. Watching him now, Jeno thinks he almost looks like a different person. 

The latter gets up from the swing. 

"Nana-"

"Stop calling me that." Jaemin's voice is sharp. Like the broken shards of a mirror. Devoid of emotions.

"Jaemin…"

 _I'm sorry,_ he wants to say. _Nana I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean it. I love it when you hug me, when you hold my hand. I want it so much that it scares me sometimes._

But none of the words make their way past his throat. 

"Save your excuses. I don't want them," Jaemin says coldly. There's an electrically charged pause— "Goodbye Jeno."

And then he's gone. Jeno doesn't sleep that night.

He finds himself knocking on Jaemin's door the next day, apologies ready on the tip on his tongue. He has practiced it a thousand times in his head that morning, before he finally mustered up the courage to walk across the street to the familiar house with the popcorn walls.

Mrs. Na opens the door, arms covered in flour up to the elbows. 

"Hi, is Jaemin home?" he fakes a bright smile, hoping the younger hasn't told his mother about having a fight with him.

She smiles back at him

"He left already. Why don't you try texting him later?"

"Um...where can I find him right now?"

Her brows furrow in confusion.

"His flight should have left by now...," she says slowly, like her words could shatter him.

It feels like a punch to his gut. Suddenly, everything seems blurry, like his world is caving in on itself. 

"Where?" he asks softly.

Mrs.Na offers him a sympathetic smile. "He went back to Korea. His father wanted him to continue his education there, and he seemed happy with the plan. Didn't he tell you?"

Jeno doesn't trust himself to speak, so he only shakes his head.

Of all the scenarios he'd imagined in his head about the outcome of his apology to Jaemin, this was definitely not one of them. If Jeno hasn't been feeling terrible enough already, he does now. It all made sense, all that talk about missing him.

Jaemin was gone. 

ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ

Jeno attends pride for the first time in Seoul. 

It’s _insane_. It’s so much bigger than anything Jeno had ever imagined. Honestly. There’s so much colour here it feels like Jeno lived in a grayscale world before. Even the people are colourful – wrapped in Pride flags, wearing clothes so vibrant they hurt Jeno’s eyes, hair dyed in random shades. 

They are playing Epiphany on the huge speakers that line the street, hundreds of voices singing along to the lyrics about self love. Jeno feels goosebumps crawling up his arms despite the heat of June – there’s nothing quite like a crowd standing up for who they are. Standing up for their right to love, to exist — living out loud, for once in their marginalised lives. 

University doesn't start until September, but he'd managed to convince his parents that he missed Korea. That he wanted to explore for a bit before starting classes. Wanted to settle in properly.

The truth is that he wanted to get away. He wanted to leave behind the small town he grew up in, his oppressive childhood. He is done hiding who he truly is. He's not afraid anymore.

Jeno looks at the people singing around him, waving Pride flags and holding hands. A girl with electric blue hair and a Pride flag tied around her neck like superman's cape laughs at something her friend says and then quickly leans in to peck her on the cheek. They look like normal people. People just like him. There's nothing gross about this, he realizes as he looks at them. Nothing shameful.

And finally, for the first time in his life, Jeno feels like he belongs.

Among the sea of loud colours, Jeno spots a flash of bubblegum pink. It crazy how he does and he knows that the odds here are pretty much non existent; half of the people have their hair dyed a loud shade. But he _has_ to know. 

Jeno thinks of all the unanswered phone calls. The texts that were left unseen till they stopped going through altogether. And he _has_ to _make sure_.

The crowd parts and closes around him as he frantically pushes through, like an ocean of human bodies. And then, there he is. Jeno thinks he looks even taller than before, but he'd recognize that body, that hair anywhere. 

Jaemin walks hand in hand with a boy whose legs alone look like they're are long enough to make up three quarters of Renjun's small body. His heart clenches at the sight.

_Nana…_

It's only when Jaemin begins to turn around that he realizes he'd said it out loud. Their eyes meet, and all the words, all the apologies he has been preparing over the years, die in his throat.

"Jeno?" Jaemin is the first one to break the silence. He ushers the boy to go on without him. People walk by, but no one pays any heed to the two boys standing rooted to their spots.

"I'm sorry," Jeno blurts, tears threatening to spill. "I was scared."

There's a long pause that seems to warp seconds into hours. The younger's face softens.

And this time when Jaemin wraps his arms around him, Jeno doesn't push him away. "I'm sorry," he sobs into the boy's neck, "I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for being scared of who I was. I'm sorry I was scared of who I liked. But-"

Jeno hiccups and pulls away. "I'm not sorry for liking them."

Jaemin inhales, sharply. His eyes widening, his brows raising. His face shifts slowly, expression morphing into one of confusion.

"Who?" Jaemin's voice is softer than he’s ever heard it. It suddenly sounds small, unsure.

Jeno shifts uncomfortably under his eyes. Jaemin has picked up exactly on the path he is terrified to tread down — unveiling the extent of his feelings for the younger.

“You know who I'm talking about,” Jeno answers. 

Because, by now Jaemin should know him well enough to know what he means even from a single glance. Because Jeno’s cheeks are already burning and he’s never said this out loud before, not to anyone. He doesn't even know if he can.

Jaemin exhales, his eyes sliding shut. He looks as beautiful and fascinating as ever, skin practically glowing in the sunlight. And among the sea of bright colors, all flashy and vibrant, Jeno thinks he shines the brightest.

“You might have to spell it out for me,” the younger says.

Jeno’s heart is racing. It always did, whenever he was with Jaemin. 

Jeno bites down on his lip. Then he blows out his cheeks in an exhale, opens his mouth and slowly begins to speak.

“I don’t know if you’ve realized this already but,” Jeno shakes his head, “I get kinda stupid when it comes you. I get stupid in the way that just seeing you makes me smile like an idiot. You make me want to say ridiculously cheesy things. And I wanted to hug you every time you would laugh at my terrible jokes. I wanted to be able to hold your hand without it being weird.”

Jeno pauses, allowing himself to check on Jaemin, to search him for any adverse reaction to his confession. But the younger just looks dumbstruck, frozen. Jeno's not sure if this is supposed to be a good thing or not, but he takes in a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut and plows on, wanting to get it all out in the open. 

"I wanted it to the point it actually scared me. It scared me to think about what those feelings implied — what they made me. I hated it. I kept trying to push them away. To push _you_ away. And while trying to run away, I just ended up hurting the both of us. But…" he opens his eyes, and meets the younger's gaze.

"I think I'm done with running away now. I'm not scared anymore."

“Oh,” Jaemin exhales, more a breath than a word. His lips are barely parted, his eyes searching. And Jeno can only hope he finds what he's looking for.

They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity and when Jaemin finally leans forward to capture Jeno's trembling lips with his, Jeno thinks he's dreaming. It's different from the awkward kiss they shared under the mistletoe back in sophomore year, but then not really. 

It's soft and sweet, and Jeno can taste coffee on Jaemin’s lips. 

It's just a light touch of lips but Jeno's heart explodes — because this is Jaemin. Na Jaemin, his childhood best friend, who probably knows him better than he does himself, is kissing him and all he can think is that he wants this moment to last forever.

It is a simple peck, lasting only for a second, and before Jeno can even begin to comprehend how or why this was happening, Jaemin’s lips are no longer on his own. Jaemin pulls away, dropping his hands for a moment, both of them turning equal parts red.

“Nana,” Jeno breathes, voice breaking a little. “Can you kiss me again?” 

_It's so simple_.

They're in public where tens, probably hundreds of people could see them. But Jeno doesn't care. Not anymore. Plus, no one's paying them any attention anyways. 

It seems that Jaemin thinks so too because he nods, disbelief clearly written on his face as he pulls Jeno in once more, this time with more confidence. And in a way, that's very _them_. Jaemin has always been the bolder of the two, the extrovert.

As soon as they make contact, the latter’s lips move strongly against his own, a newfound urgency within him, a newfound purpose. Jeno’s hands find their way to Jaemin’s skin, skating over his heart and up his neck, and Jaemin reciprocates the touch, thumb rubbing gently against Jeno’s jawline. He tries to give back everything he is getting; pours everything he's felt for the past two years into the kiss. All his desperation, and regrets, and longing. Jaemin gasps against his mouth.

 _It's not wrong_.

Jeno's mind is completely free of thought as their lips meet again and again, and he thinks he might be crying. It feels like he's flying and being crushed to the ground at the same time. And in a way that makes sense too; Jaemin has always been his anchor, the one person he could always rely on. His home and his safe place.

After a moment, Jaemin pulls away and Jeno can't tell how long it has been. He leans his forehead against Jeno's and that's when he notices that the younger was crying too. Jeno feels a wave of affection welling up inside him and the words are past his lips before he can stop them.

"I love you." 

Jaemin stares at him, expression one of gentle wonder, and it almost makes Jeno feel shy. 

"I missed you." 

"Me too."

The corner of Jaemin's lips begin to tug up, and then they're both laughing and crying at the same time. 

"I'm sorry," Jaemin says after a while, and drags in a jerky breath. "I'm sorry I left without saying a proper goodbye. That night... what you said, it made me think you hated me for being what I am. For the first time, I realized that I made you uncomfortable."

Jeno flinches, but only because he hates hearing the truth about how his actions had affected the younger. Jaemin lowers his gaze, fingers curling lightly around the soft fabric of Jeno's shirt. Jeno can feel the warmth of his fingers seep in through the clothing, reaching his heart.

"And so I told myself that I was doing you a favor by leaving," Jaemin chokes, and Jeno tightens his arms around his waist. "But I was wrong. It was selfish of me. I didn't give you a chance to explain and jumped to all the wrong conclusions by myself. And I'm sorry for that. For shutting you out."

Jeno chuckles and swipes his thumb over Jaemin's wet, tear-streaked cheeks, the eye-liner he'd been wearing smudged around the corners. 

"I guess we were both stupid, huh?"

Jaemin exhales, as if he'd been holding his breath. He looks at Jeno, and the corners of his lips twitch, curling up into a hesitant smile. "I guess."

Later, as they walk along with the masses, belting out the lyrics to the song that's being played, Jaemin casually takes his hand, interlocking their fingers, and Jeno feels the promise in every press of his skin.

_I love you too._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
>   
> umm also,,,, i would really REALLY love it if y'all could leave some feedback cuz i'm an insecure little shit when it comes to writing and the comments would mean everything to me and also help me improve ㅠㅠ  
> 
> 
> come scream at me on [ twt](http://twitter.com/jaemsparkles) or my [ cc](https://curiouscat.me/sunhyucks) :))


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